


The Last Domino

by Kittenmommy



Series: Duke's Travels: The Musical Box and Other Stories [2]
Category: British Singers RPF, Doctor Who (2005), Genesis (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, Character Death (?), Gen, I Don't Even Know, RPF, Rock Stars, Time War, so this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 10:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenmommy/pseuds/Kittenmommy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“All right, what’s going on?” Phil asked, suspicion finally beginning to creep into his voice.  “What’s all this about?”</p><p>“I’m… I’m sorry,” the Doctor apologized, jamming his hands into his coat pockets and turning away.  How could he possibly explain everything to them?  “This was a mistake.”</p><p>“What was?” Mike asked.</p><p>“Everything,” the Doctor replied sadly.  “Coming here… <i>everything</i>.  I’m sorry.  I really am.  But I can’t do this.”  He began to move toward the door.  “I’ll just… goodbye.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Domino

**Author's Note:**

> None of this stuff belongs to me. [_Doctor Who_](http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/doctorwho/) belongs to [the BBC](http://www.bbc.co.uk/). The members of [Genesis](http://www.genesis-music.com/) are real people and (obviously) belong to themselves – oh God, please don’t sue me for this.
> 
> "[Domino: Part 1 In the Glow of The Night/Part 2 The Last Domino](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DyG7C_AfRdo)" belongs to Genesis, and I'm not making any money from this.

It was a warm, lovely day in Surrey, England. Birdsong drifted in on the slight breeze that ruffled the curtains of the open kitchen windows.

The tranquility of the afternoon was abruptly shattered as a strange sound filled the room and a blue police box faded into existence in front of the kitchen counter. 

After a moment, the Doctor stepped out and surveyed his new surroundings. He could hear faint music coming from another part of [the old farmhouse-turned-recording studio](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Farm_\(recording_studio\)), giving him a momentary flash of hope. 

He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, searching…

And found nothing.

He sighed and opened his eyes. “Best get it over with,” he murmured, and walked out of the kitchen in search of life.

* * *

He found it in the studio’s control room, where two men sat behind the mixing desk, listening intently to the music that blared out of the speakers. He stood in the doorway for a moment, unsure of exactly what he should do next, what he should say.

“What d’ya think?” Phii Collins asked his companion, leaning back in his chair. Mike Rutherford shrugged.

“Pretty good. You know, we might actually pull this off!”

Phil laughed, and the Doctor – still unnoticed – smiled sadly from his vantage point behind them.

 _They’ve gotten older since I last saw them_ , he mused, and then mentally kicked himself. Of course they’d gotten older; they were humans, after all – not Time Lords. That thought reminded him of why he’d come here in the first place, and he sighed.

“Where do you think Tony’s gone?” Mike asked suddenly. 

Phil shrugged. “Dunno. He’d better get back here soon, though. We need to rehearse this some more,” he said, gesturing to indicate the song coming from the speakers. “I’m not quite happy with it yet.”

The Doctor finally found his voice. “It sounds great to me,” he said, and the two humans swiveled around in their chairs to stare incredulously at him.

“Who’re you?” Phil asked.

“And how’d you get in here?” Mike added.

“Oh, it’s just me,” the Doctor replied offhandedly. “Your old pal… the Doctor.”

Phil used one finger to push the bridge of his wire-rimmed glasses farther up on his nose and frowned. “The Doctor?”

“With the police box?” Mike asked, his brow furrowing in thought.

“That’s me,” the Doctor agreed.

“Well, you’ve changed a bit,” Phil observed mildly. “You used to have all that curly hair…and then you went blond.”

“Ah, you remember me. I’m flattered.”

“You’re hard to forget,” Mike said, exchanging a glance with Phil. “Remember that time Tony got drunk and rambled on about him?”

Phil snorted. “Now _that_ was a memorable occasion!”

“I’m sure it was,” the Doctor agreed wryly.

“Most of what he said didn’t make a lot of sense,” Phil began.

“Oh?” the Doctor asked innocently, imagining the kind of things that Tony must have said.

“He was _really_ drunk,” Mike added.

“Yeah, he sure was,” Phil agreed, and turned his attention back to the Time Lord. “He didn’t like you much, you know.” The Doctor winced at the human’s innocent use of the past tense as the singer continued on, oblivious. “Said you’re always sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“That’s me,” the Time Lord agreed with a sad little smile.

“So, what can we do for you today, Doctor?” Mike asked, getting right to the point. 

“I…” He took a deep breath. “I was actually hoping to find Tony here.” _No harm in hoping_ , he thought to himself.

Phil snorted. “Yeah, you and me both, mate. We’re supposed to be rehearsing for our reunion tour!” He pointed at the speakers, where the music still played. “That’s from yesterday. It’s not where it needs to be, though. Not yet.”

“Reunion tour,” the Doctor repeated faintly. He seemed to wilt. “Oh Phil… Mike... I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Phil frowned. “’Ere, we’re not _that_ bad!” He sounded insulted. 

“Yeah… there’s a bit of life left in us yet! Mike agreed.

“That’s not what I meant.” The Doctor scrubbed his face with one hand. “Listen,” he began.

“ _Now see what you’ve gone and done!_ ” Phil’s accusing voice cried from the speakers. “ _Now see what you’ve gone and done!_ ”

The Doctor reeled back as if he’d been slapped. 

The two humans were watching him questioningly. 

Suddenly, his recent words to Sarah Jane Smith came back to him, unbidden: _I lived. Everyone_ else _died… Everyone_ died _, Sarah._

He closed his eyes, fighting back the emotions.

“All right, what’s going on?” Phil asked, suspicion finally beginning to creep into his voice. “What’s all this about?”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” the Doctor apologized, jamming his hands into his coat pockets and turning away. How could he possibly explain everything to them? “This was a mistake.”

“What was?” Mike asked.

“Everything,” the Doctor replied sadly. “Coming here… _everything_. I’m sorry. I really am. But I can’t do this.” He began to move toward the door. “I’ll just… goodbye.”

“If you see Tony, tell him we’re ready to start,” Phil called after him.

The Doctor stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly to face them. It was a moment before he spoke.

“Tony isn’t coming back,” he told them, and his voice was brittle with bitterness and regret. “Not today. Not tomorrow. Not _ever_.” He took a breath. “I really am very sorry,” he repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I’m sorrier than you can possibly imagine.”

The two humans gaped at him in astonishment. Before they could find their voices again, the Doctor was gone.

The music from the studio followed him as he walked back to his TARDIS, followed him like an accusation.

_Oh but there’s nothing you can do if you’re the next in line,_  
 _And you’ve gotta go, domino!_

_Now do you know, do you know what you have done?_  
 _And do you know, do you know, do you know what you’ve begun?_

The Doctor walked into his TARDIS and shut the door.

A minute later, it was gone.

FINIS.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally posted on [A Teaspoon And An Open Mind: A _Doctor Who_ Fanfiction Archive](http://www.whofic.com) back in 2007. I've slightly updated it for AO3 - lucky you! ;)


End file.
